


I'm not crying, You're crying

by mythras_fire



Series: Friday Night Chats Plot-Bunny Factory [23]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex Manes' Beagle, Alien Biology, Banter, Cabin Fic, Couch Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Nebulous Well-Adjusted Future, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythras_fire/pseuds/mythras_fire
Summary: Alex was just about finished changing the bedclothes with freshly laundered purple cotton sheets when the sounds of sniffling and sobbing officially became louder than the instrumental music being played in the great room of the cabin. He allowed himself one dramatic flop face-first into his pillow for a few moments. Then he sat up to steel himself with several deep breaths and lotus hand movements, got up, and walked out of their bedroom and into the fray.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Friday Night Chats Plot-Bunny Factory [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1292960
Comments: 11
Kudos: 52





	I'm not crying, You're crying

**Author's Note:**

> For bgn <3.

Alex was just about finished changing the bedclothes with freshly laundered purple cotton sheets when the sounds of sniffling and sobbing officially became louder than the instrumental music being played in the great room of the cabin. He allowed himself one dramatic flop face-first into his pillow for a few moments. Then he sat up to steel himself with several deep breaths and lotus hand movements, got up, and walked out of their bedroom and into the fray.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Michael turned puffy red eyes up at Alex as he rounded the couch and blew one more time into one of the handkerchiefs Alex had given him. Kinda gross to wash but definitely nicer on the environment.

The waterworks started up all over again at Alex’s inquiry, for some strange reason. Alex had stopped trying to figure out why a dozen crying jags ago. He slid down onto the couch and pulled Michael’s head into the crook of his shoulder, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

“M’sorry, it’s nothing, I—I just- it’s cuz- they played _Amazing Grace_ again, Alex.”

“Yeah, I could hear it from the bedroom. It’s a pretty song, I even like the Scottish bagpipes.” 

Michael sniffled into Alex’s shirt. He was becoming a pro at getting snot out of his clothes before it set in.

“Me, too, but it’s so sad!” More sobbing.

“Is it? I guess I hadn’t paid that much attention to the lyrics before.”

“It’s really old. Like antebellum old.”

“So it’s a Civil War hymn?”

“No. *sniffle* From before the American Revolution, actually, except it’s not American, it’s a British hymn. Or rather, an Anglican hymn, to be precise.”

“Yes, of course,” Alex chuckled as he reached up to run his fingers through Michael’s luscious curls, which had been looking extra thick and lustrous of late. “What’s so sad about it though? Sounds like an uplifting or at least melodic hymn you’d hear from a gospel choir.”

Michael scooched closer. “It’s a hymn written by a man named John Newton in 1772— but just the verse, the music came later and changed a bunch of times before it settled on the version we’re familiar with— anyways, *sniffle* he had lived a hard life on the high seas as both an enslaved sailor and a slaver himself. He later became an Anglican clergyman and poet after he had a spiritual conversion during a life-or-death voyage when his ship got caught in a squall off the coast of Ireland. This hymn was his way of talking about his experiences and expressing his profound sorrow, for the sins of his youth, and relief, for being saved by grace. *sniffle* He almost died a handful of times as a sailor, too, sometimes due to his own recalcitrance, but somehow he ended up living to the age of 82, Alex! Can you believe that? In the 18th century, that was quite a feat for the average Joe. And he even helped the abolitionist William Wilberforce with his campaign that ultimately led Parliament to end the slave trade in The British Empire in 1807.”

“Wow,” Alex exclaimed, “Shit, that’s like, more than fifty years before Lincoln abolished it here.”

“Yeah,” Michael mumbled, fiddling with the hem of Alex’s red Henley.

“You are so smart. Thanks for the history lesson, I’ll have to read the lyrics the next time I listen to the song. I’m sure it will be a much more moving experience.” Alex kissed the top of his beloved’s head. “When you did learn about this, in school?”

Michael huffed at that. “Try this morning. Wikipedia is the best friend of people who are in hiding who have no one to talk to. The world at your fingertips.” Buffy lifted her head off her doggy bed just then, as if to say _what about me?_. Michael chuckled wetly, "'cept for you, of course, you know you're my girl." Their beagle barked once to make sure they knew it and laid her head back down. Alex smiled at the way they took care of each other. They'd bonded immediately when Alex brought her home from the shelter. 

“So you spent the morning falling down the rabbit hole? Sounds like a good—”

"No," Michael interrupted with a shake of his head that felt more like he was trying to burrow further into Alex's chest. "It's not a good way to pass the time, at least not right now when I'll start crying at the drop of a hat. It's exhausting, Alex. My eyes are so itchy and dry, I swear I'm dehydrated because all of the water I drink comes out of my eyes!"

Alex felt for Michael, he really did. He made soothing 'shh' sounds as he rubbed one hand up and down Michael's back, the other one caressing Michael's hand where it lay in Alex's lap, palm up.

"Ugh, how do humans do this?"

"I don't know, sweetheart. What else did you do today?"

"Well, let's see... first I read up about Amazing Grace after listening to it on Spotify and wondering about the lyrics, then I bawled my eyes out listening to it with enlightened ears afterward. Then I updated your MacBook Pro to Catalina because that little window kept popping up and you've been too busy to do it yourself."

"You're so sweet," Alex kissed Michael's curls, "thank you."

"You're welcome. Then I bawled my eyes out watching the 'take a tour of our new features!' video where it shows a quadriplegic completely controlling an iMac and iPhone with only his voice." Michael sniffled some more as he leaned over a little more then snuck his right arm around Alex's back and proceeded to try to squeeze the air out of him. 

"Whoa there, Cowboy, what's with the bear hug," Alex wheezed, "haven't we established that humans need to be able to inflate their lungs in order to breathe?"

"Sorry," came the muffled response from the vicinity of Alex's ribcage. "Seeing him like that made me think of how close you could have been to not coming back at all. Home. To me." 

The serpentine arms loosened their hold around Alex's waist enough for him to breathe deeply again and he sighed on the exhale. "Yeah, I know, luv. No one's thought about that more than me."

"Nuh-uh."

"Yeah-huh."

"Nuh-"

"Then what?" Alex re-directed Michael's train of thought before it completely derailed into a Three Stooges argument for the next half-hour.

"Uh, then... oh yeah, then I tried to distract myself from thinking of you in a... *sniffle* in a... uh, what was the question again?"

"Then what?" Alex repeated helpfully, reaching up to stroke Michael's scalp in that way he'd told Alex when they'd first gotten back together took him to his happy place.

The purring sound that reverberated off Alex's ribs a few seconds later made him smile. Bingo.

"Ah, then Youtube. I watched a couple of videos on my Watch Later list. Gotta hand it to Google's algorithm, it's been doing a really great job of recommending relevant videos it thinks I might like."

"Yeah, I noticed that, too. I've discovered several new artists and a couple of unique musical instruments through the homepage feed."

"Mmhmm." Michael paused to take his own deep breath. He really did sound exhausted. "Guess what happened next?"

"You bawled your eyes out watching a YouTube video of kittens fail!jumping off the backrests of couches?"

"Close. Dogs running an agility course at the Westminster Kennel Club or somewhere."

Alex tried to muffle a snicker into Michael's curls. Sadly for him, those delectable curls weren't exactly top-notch sound dampeners.

"Are you laughing at me?" Came the poutiest, most-put-upon voice from under his chin, which only made Alex snicker more because Michael could be a real drama queen when he wanted to be.

"Of course... not," Alex teased.

"Ugh, you are! You are, you're like that book! The one that goes um, Alexander and the no good, terrible uh horrible something something..."

" _Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day_?"

"Yes! That one." Michael disentangled himself from Alex to shove himself upright to face him.

Alex immediately missed his warmth and reached out to snag his hands so they could keep his warm.

"Except this version would be Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Husband."

Alex bit his lips and tried valiantly not to make any more incriminating noises, seeing as how Michael's brain wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders right now, poor thing. 

Apparently, the overly innocent look he gave him clued Michael in that there was something amiss and he could see his love repeating what he just said in his head right before he saw the proverbial lightbulb go on.

"Wait, no."

"Are you sure?" Alex teased as he stood up and stretched while still maintaining his grip on their clasped hands. It was definitely time for bed if it was taking Michael this long to catch up with his syntactic error.

"Yes. No. Wait... Hey! I'm not the bad husband here, that's you!" Michael complained as Alex planted his good foot behind him and placed his prosthesis on the cushion next to his man.

"Okay, up on three. One, two, three!"

Alex pulled and Michael pushed and together they managed to heave his very pregnant alien husband up off the couch. Boy, no matter how many times he thought that, never mind saying it out loud, it never sounded less strange. Or less amazing. Alex rewarded Michael with a loving fish kiss for his efforts. 

They'd tried having Michael use his powers to help him up and down from the couch but the guerrilla attack of any object that wasn't nailed down in the cabin had quickly put the kibosh on that idea. Kyle could only shrug his shoulders when asked and say that maybe there was some kind of electrochemical traffic jam in Michael's brain from all the pregnancy hormones that was keeping his telekinesis from obeying commands properly from his central nervous system. And then he'd gone on _ad nauseam_ about how they didn't exactly have Alien Biology 101 at Michigan. That's when Alex and Michael had stopped asking Kyle questions and just had him come 'round for a weekly ultrasound.

Alex grinned as he rubbed the protrusion currently warming his stomach where it kept the two men from standing chest to chest. "Why am I the bad husband?"

"Uh, Exhibit A!" Michael retorted, pointing at said protrusion.

Alex leaned down and put his hands on either side of Michael's belly to coo, "Don't you listen to him, Baby, he's just tired from exercising his tear ducts all day; you're beautiful and I am the luckiest gay man ever because you are half me and half your dad which makes you made of love."

The slight pressure of five little _glowing_ fingers to the place where Alex held one of his hands against Michael's skin brought tears to his eyes. Careful to maintain contact with their little hybrid bean, Alex stood back up to gaze at his husband, who looked to be on the verge of another crying jag. Alex reached up with his other hand to cup Michael's cheek, completing the circle. Buffy knew the routine and barked as she got up from her spot to weave between their legs before bounding off to the bedroom ahead of them.

"No one's thought about that more than me."

"Nuh-uh."

"Yeah-huh."

"Nuh-"

"Okay, knucklehead, let's go to bed. Freshly laundered sheets await."

"The purple ones?"

"The very same. Wait, no, don't use my sleeve, here's your hanky."

"Thank you, Alex."

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

~*~Fin~*~

**Author's Note:**

> OG Maria sang Amazing Grace in [2x17](https://youtu.be/r1GPAYQjy7Y) (FYI: spoilers in YouTube link for Season Two of OG show in case you haven't seen it). Just watched it and 20 years later it still makes me tear up. Now that's powerful.
> 
> Wikipedia article on the origins of [Amazing Grace](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amazing_Grace).
> 
> Here's the [dog agility competition](https://youtu.be/kqnB76cQSd0) video for your enjoyment.
> 
> For those of you who might be unfamiliar with this classic 80's children's book: [Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46677.Alexander_and_the_Terrible_Horrible_No_Good_Very_Bad_Day) by Judith Viorst.


End file.
